


Turning Points

by Whuffie



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, NSFW, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Alistair dies slaying the Archdemon, Audrie is left to pick up the pieces.  She finds comfort, companionship, and solace with Nathaniel.  I'll be honest, this story is mainly sex.  The undertone about sorrow, anger, healing and moving on.  Very much NSFW with light dom / sub interaction, but no other warnings apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Audrie?” Nathaniel found her sitting aloofly alone, the way she often did when they set up camp, and he hesitated to disturb her. After a moment, she looked up at him, and placed the neutral mask on her face everyone recognized. Who was really under it? 

“Hm?” She made to stand up, but he motioned her to remain with her back to the fire while others kept the watch. 

“May I sit with you?” Nathaniel was not a man who mixed or played with words, but he also respected her privacy. Like him, she was often withdrawn from the others, keeping to herself and her own thoughts. She could be friendly enough, but there was something other than the fact she was the commander which kept her apart. It was choice, although he didn’t know why.

“Of course,” she moved over on the rolled out blankets to make room for him so he didn’t have to sit on the ground. It was a simple, unconscious, intimate gesture which he appreciated more than she realized. “What’s on your mind?” As always, her demeanor was approachable, even warm toward her companions. She was open to suggestions and questions when they brought them to her. They all had things which they wanted to know about being Grey Wardens, and if she could answer them, she did so with a gentle honesty. If she didn’t know, they’d all learned she would tell them that, as well, because her own mentor was killed at Ostagar before she knew anything about being a Warden beyond the fact that the Joining could be lethal. Left alone with the fallen hero Alistair to raise an army and stop a Blight, most of what she’d learned had been learned through a harsh, uncompromising campaign which lasted almost a year. 

There was still something she held back from all of them, and he had a compelling reason for wanting to know what it was. “I was wondering what was on yours, if you want to tell me.” 

He wasn’t as bad as Sten, but Nathaniel didn’t shrink back from what he was thinking. Normally, she liked that about him, annoying through it could occasionally be. Still a bit resentful toward Riordan for not mentioning the gruesome details earlier than he had, she tried to keep communications open with the new recruits and had orders with Seneschal Varel to do the same should anything happen to her. Duncan hadn’t expected to die when he did, and he’d promised to tell her so much more in the coming months. They’d never come because of the debacle at Ostagar, and she didn’t want that to happen again should she unexpectedly die. Nathaniel and all the other initiates had the right to any knowledge she possessed on their new lives. Had she and Alistair been better educated, perhaps things would have ended differently than having her heart and soul torn out to watch him die in the throes of the archdemon’s essence passing into his body. How much better would it have been had the demon killed her, too? At least then they’d be together, or so the Chantry told the masses. 

All of the memories seemed amplified in the last weeks as she lead her new group of misfits, and the old scars lashed across her heart, sometime rupturing like a bad blister in her dreams. Perhaps it was because of the familiarity of the situation, bringing a group of people together who had nothing in common and forming a bond through the hopeful defeat of the darkspawn threat. Once again, she lead, although it wouldn’t have been her first choice to do so. Unlike the past, however, she also held a military position of sorts, and all the troublesome responsibilities which went with it. She didn’t particularly like that part, and found herself wishing for the council of Duncan, Irving, or Arl Eamon more than once. Thank the Maker for Varel, who was almost enough to fill the shoes of people she so sorely missed.

Bringing the troop together left a sense of deja vu in her tired mind when she put her head down to rest at the end of a long day. They were walking again. She would have thought they could spare at least a retired plow horse for the Commander of the Grey, but it seemed the familiarity of worn out boots were her future again. 

Somehow, she doubted Greagoir or even Irving ever would have thought she’d end up where she had, but it was all that remained of her past after Alistair. She’d honestly thought she was past that, but now … it was coming back to haunt her nightmares. For some odd reason, she was attributing that to Nathaniel, although she couldn’t imagine why. It was hardly his fault for events which happened when she was trying to stop a Blight. They hadn’t even known the other existed, then. 

Nathaniel had asked what she was thinking, but she didn’t want to try and explain things which she, herself didn’t understand. Instead, she began the explanation which she and Alistair hadn’t gotten until a few nights before his death. “A Blight occurs when an archdemon awakes.” She spared him non essential words, even though he’d asked what she was thinking about. He knew the scenario from debriefing, and Nathaniel only nodded. This wasn’t a Blight, it would be centuries before another one occurred, but he was a Warden. It was information they all kept for whoever came after them. 

“Alistair.” Audrie swallowed hard against his name and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips, stopping the tears because she saw stars behind her eyelids. “He … there were only two of us left in Ferelden, you see. We ran across an Orlesian Warden in prison,” she omitted it was about the same time Rendon Howe had been killed, knowing it was best not to wave a red flag under Nathaniel’s nose. “He was our senior; a man named Riordan. He was going to take the blow, and he tried. Maker knows, he tried, and he wounded the beast. It scraped him off its back midair and he fell to his death.” She could still see it in her nightmares, knowing what it had meant for her, for him, and for Alistair. “Alistair died… so I wouldn’t.” She grimaced, and grit her teeth, then bit down on her bottom lip.

Nathaniel didn’t look away, nor did he offer any empty platitudes or sympathies. Courtesy suggested he should have, but she wouldn’t have appreciated it. He did, however, finally see beneath the mask for the first time. It was clear to him what bothered her so much, and was gnawing away at her when she was secluding herself. “You loved him.”

Although she wanted to deny it, she finally couldn’t, and angrily balled her fists together at her sides. She was the Commander of the triple damned Grey and couldn’t be seen crying her heart out over something which happened months ago. The pain had first cut her to pieces as she tried to avoid all the fan faire and congratulations. None of it was anything she deserved. Alistair was the hero, not her, so all she’d wanted to do was crawl into a dark place and mourn. When that had passed into a kind of numbness, she threw herself into the work of rebuilding the Wardens, perhaps hoping that the darkspawn would finish what the archdemon had already tried to do. That wouldn’t have been what Alistair wanted, she knew, but at the same time, she couldn’t help herself. She hated him for making her live when he hadn’t, and he was at the core of her heartache. “Yes, I did,” she told him quietly. “Very much.”

His sharp, stormy eyes studied her. “Do you still?”

She shrugged after a moment, not fully realizing how loaded a crossbow the question was. “Yes, but he’s been gone for months. My life has gone on. It’s what he’d have wanted, and what has to be regardless.” The death should have been hers, and it would have made Alistair king. A better king than Anora was queen, and she’d never stop believing that. How she absolutely despised that bitch, and her back stabbing politics. “I was the leader. That should have been my death, and the blood of King Maric should be on the throne of Ferelden. Instead, he didn’t even give me a choice! Now… he’s been gone for a long time and I…” She found herself staring at Nathaniel, the haze of tears drying before they were shed, and truly seeing him for the first time. 

They’d come a long way in the past five months, and he’d become an indispensable part of their group. In spite of his claims when they first met, he’d never once tried to assassinate her. There were plenty of others in line for that privilege, but after Zevran, it stopped phasing her. People tried murder for two full years, and the novelty finally wore off. 

Nathaniel, not all that differently from Zevran in a few ways, wasn’t a bad sort when you got to know him. All he really had needed to be shown the truth and let go of his own bruised past. That was something she, of all people, could understand. In reality, she hadn’t any idea that Howe had a family, although it wouldn’t have changed anything. He’d been trying to kill them at the time, even if Anora wasn’t worth the risk or the trouble, Audrie’s team defended themselves. Nathaniel looked a good deal like Rendon Howe but he was as different as stars from dawn. There was real nobility in him, perhaps the man his father had been when Maric and the Couslands had been with the young king to drive out the Orlesians. He was… good… decent… plain spoken. Nothing like Alistair after the first two traits. He didn’t stumble over his words, make jokes, court her or bring her a flower he’d carried around for him for several days. Nor did he search her face with earnest brown eyes asking to share her bed because of how much he cared. Instead, Nathaniel was rough, worldly, completely lacking Alistair’s fresh, handsome good looks… and yet… Yet… To her, he was not unattractive. 

His craggy, almost roughly chiseled out features were as if an artist had begun something then only half finished, disliking the work to abandon it. Nathaniel’s aquiline nose had been broken at least once, and thin lips which so seldom smiled wouldn’t turn heads as he walked through a street. She had to wonder, why then, did she make excuses for him to be at her back when others would do? Why take him into the city rather than someone else? She’d tried to say that it was only because she needed his rogue talents, and therefore he was useful, but was that the only reason?

Was the past was digging into her heart so painfully in the last few weeks because of something specific? Clad in the lighter armor such as Leliana and Zevran favored for free movement and stealth, she found Nathaniel was leaning closer, his grey eyes fixed on her. They were almost the same color as Jowan’s, she realized for the first time. The man reflected in them was so utterly different she hadn’t noticed before. 

Almost magnetically, she was pulled toward him, and when he kissed her, she not only didn’t resist, she found herself falling into a pent up release and relish. Guilt stormed through her, pounding its fists against barriers she’d erected, but she would not give it power. Alistair was gone, died a hero, and she had lived. It hadn’t been her choice, but truths she’d been concealing from herself were having the veil torn back in the heady few seconds of a kiss. The things haunting her came from an attraction to Nathaniel, and fought it because of her loyalty to Alistair’s memory.


	2. Chapter 2

The whole idea of Nathaniel was reckless, regardless, and he broke from her. His breath still warmed her lips as he didn’t back away. It was absolutely mad, and yet … the other side of her, the one which stubbornly wanted to bring the rest of her into the business of living, argued perhaps not. Nathaniel had a strong spirit, and although inclined to brood, was as noble as Justice himself. There had been one another man in her life shortly after Alistair, but it was an empty gesture, trying desperately to fill a void noone possibly could have. Instant hero status made her supremely desirable, almost second to Anora. Her body might have been there, but heart wasn’t. Eventually he exited like a wisp lost in the fade. There was also an uncomfortable tendency that she always noticed he didn’t have Alistair’s stamina when they were intimate. If it was just Alistair, or the fact he was a Grey Warden, she didn’t know, but the other man she’d allowed to her bed was lacking. She’d given up trying, and resigned herself to self imposed solitude shortly after that disaster. Maybe it was time to find out if it was a Warden trait.

In a rush of heat, she put her hands on either side of Nathaniel’s face, her palms outlining the high cheekbones and kissed him again, running fingers through his straight, shoulder length hair to pull him closer. She’d been interested in him for awhile, unable to let go of her own past long enough to let the notion grow. Evidently, it was mutual, and he was no shy, gentle virgin raised by the Chantry. That was obvious by the way he was using his tongue to seduce hers.

Nor was she an untouched lass fresh from the Tower brimming with naive curiosity any longer, and she met his gusto with her own. 

“Do you really want this?” he asked without rebuke nor innocence as he pushed his fingerless gloves through her hair, and she felt his breath against her throat. He asked the question directly, and she, in turn gave him a brutally honest answer.

“Yes.” Of course, what she desperately and deeply wanted was Alistair back, but she hadn’t even the chance to make love with him the week before he died. He’d broken their relationship along with two hearts when he was slated to become the king. Cut off from him, shattered, and suffering, she’d only wanted to die stopping the Blight. He hadn’t let her. It took months to admit, but she was furious over that. She supposed she’d always love him, but she also wanted to feel again, wanted to be with a man who she cared about again. Although she would have seen it coming nearly as easily as she’d have believed she’d find herself Conscripting a nug, that man was Nathaniel. 

The last thing she needed in her life was being mixed up with another Warden, particularly one under her official command, but she was lonely. How did people like Kristof’s wife, outside of the Wardens, endure? The Order as close knit as a family, bound together by the dark secret of the Joining. She could not imagine anyone else understanding enough about her life to form lasting closeness. In the end, only other Wardens comprehended the burdens they bore, and how they would die in the the Deep Roads, alone in the dark. It also seemed only another could make her body sing, responding with long forgotten passion. “I want this, Nathaniel. I really do.”

“Good.” She could hear and feel his smile rather than see it, with his head bent close to her neck. He stood up, pulling her to feet with him, and put his hand on the back of her head. Massaging her hair in his hands, Nathaniel kissed her again. “Why don’t we go somewhere more private, then.” Once she’s given assent, he wasn’t hesitant, and didn’t make it a question, leading her by the hands into a more secluded place away from the camp where they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

The night was fair, clear, and warm, with the occasional glint of a starfly flicking yellow in the curtains of darkness. From experience she knew the entire party was going to figure out what they were doing soon enough, but she was past caring. She’d given up everything for the Grey Wardens, and if “knocking boots” (to borrow Zevran’s old term,) was the worst of her offenses, then so be it. Keeping a leery eye out for Rashvine, there was nothing in the clearing he’d chosen to thwart them from enjoying one another. It was hardly as if the bulk of her experience had been in a bed, anyway. As he rested his bare fingertips against her cheeks, he leaned in for another kiss, the tip of his tongue touching her lips.

Surprising both of them to some extent, she answered the siren needs which her body understood even if her soul and mind weren’t entirely at rest. Nathaniel smelled of oiled leather, summer dried grass, soap, and his lips tasted faintly of woodsmoke. She could feel the hard, lean muscle under his thick leather armor, and beneath it as something even more important to her. In his chest beat a heart of decency and passion which drew her toward him like moth to a lantern. It glowed bright with the nobility of his grandfather, making him the most desirable man she’d met since that day atop Ft. Drakon destroyed her life. She wrapped one arm about his waist and another behind his head to intensify their kiss to a full blaze, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. 

Nothing had ever truly compared to Alistair because she loved him, but as much as they were both interested in being together until he broke the relationship, neither of them had any sort of real experience. He always held something back, just at the edge of the threshold, perhaps because he could not throw off the last traces of his shyness, or possibly he didn’t want to hurt her. It was a confusing experience of adoring love and blandly effective physical expression. Whatever the reasons, they hadn’t branched out, and he’d never been assertive, even when they were in private. She could sense that was not to be the case with Nathaniel, and a critical part of her was inflamed by the idea. Hunger which had been strangled in a pool of grief was finally breaking the surface, and for the first time in over a year, she desperately craved a man’s physical attention. She wanted Nathaniel’s hands, mouth, and union. 

“So, is it true what Anders told the dwarf about mage robes?” he asked, crouching in front of her to cup his hands firmly over the thin leather of her tall boots. Gradually creeping upward along her leg from the ankle as he stared up into her eyes, sending a white hot chill along her body. 

It wasn’t flirtation, exactly, she didn’t think, but he was actually wondering. According to Anders, the reason mages chose robes was the ability to hike them up for a fast tryst in a broom closet or some nonsense, so the templars wouldn’t catch them. Nathaniel was making it hard to think as he unerringly pushed the bottom of her robes up enough to find bare skin, where her boots ended. He knelt on his knees, starting with a kiss on the top of her leg, then using his tongue, and finally started to nibble on her inner thigh, pulling her boot slowly off. “I… um…” Trying to remember what she was going to say was as easy as finding a single candle spark in the middle of a raging bonfire. “I don’t think so. At least it wasn’t that way for me.” 

He didn’t want elaboration as he caressed her opposite leg in the same way, occasionally reminding her that he had both teeth and tongue as ran his hands along the strong, supple curves of her legs. She’d been doing hardly anything except walk, run, or fight since she’d left the tower. The soft life of the Circle had been shed for feline lean muscle in her legs by virtue of necessity. They were beautiful, long and well shaped right up to her ass, which was in equally good condition, from where Nathaniel was admiring. It was welcome news about the robes, because he wasn’t interested in a fast and furious fuck then strolling back to camp.

Still kneeling in front of her, he took his gloves off and tossed them aside. His hands were freed to slip up the outside of her thighs as he edged closer, and find the simple cords which kept on her lower small clothes, pulling them down her legs as he looked up at her. The level of heat and lust in her weirdly compelling, almost cat-like eyes by itself was enough to make him hard as stone. That was uncomfortable, because armor wasn’t made for it, but he’d get to that in time, too. With her small clothes balled into his fists, he paused long enough to smell them, where her arousal was potent and he wanted nothing more than to taste it. Tossing them aside with his gloves, he welcomed her into an embrace again as she knelt with him, both of them on the knees as she began to work the buckles of his light armor with nimble fingers. 

She was no stranger to removing armor, although the hugest part of her experience hadn’t been erotic. Being a healer often meant stripping away clothes and protection to seal up wounds, yank out arrows, and none of it was sensual. His armor type wasn’t as familiar as the heavier sets Alistair had worn, but most of the fastenings worked the same way. Although regrets and guilt pummeled the back of her mind vindictively, she was blasting back at both just as viciously with the sensations of need and longing which were collecting rapidly in her body. Alistair was gone, and he wouldn’t be returning to her bed nor her life ever again. She had to live, and for the first time since the archdemon had fallen, she wanted life with all its riches. There was also something else she desperately craved, even needed, and he was unbuckling the built-in belt to her robe like he’d done it a dozen times before. Either by experience or because he was fortunate enough to get it right the first time, she realized she was attracted to the fact he knew himself, and hadn’t any hesitations about what to do with a woman once he had her. 

He ducked his chin as she lifted his chest pieces over his head, then stretched up his arms as she removed the padded shirt beneath, getting to his bare skin. What was under the armor made desire explode through her all over again until she trembled. Life hadn’t shaped him the way it had Alistair, who was accustomed to the weight of massive armor, but Nathaniel was built with fine, clean, well defined lines like she would have imagined a griffon to be. He was strong, but without waste nor bulk. Although he bore a number of scars, she was no stranger to them, either. Life left its marks on the map of their hides with people such as themselves, and somehow, as Leliana once said, it only added to the beauty of the piece. 

Brimming with primal needs, she forced herself to yield to them. It relieved her from listening to the pointless and old heartache, andshe kissed him with such searing fervor it pleasantly surprised him again. Running her hands from his stomach and through the light hair on his chest, she took to his example and nibbled at his nipples as she sucked on them, gently biting until they lifted into hard knobs under her tongue. His breathing had quickened and she felt his arousal setting pace with her own. He pushed her away from him just enough to start unlacing her robes in the back while he kissed and nipped at her neck. Once his hands were done, he put one against her throat while his lips were at the other side, stroking her face as she continued to roll his nipples between her fingertips.


	3. Chapter 3

He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time, for more than a few reasons. One was the way he had been intensely striving to find ways to please his father, but maturity had taught him he was what he was. Chasing skirts and drinking wine had a low priority while in the Free Marches, and coupled with bitterness he was learning to let go, he wasn’t the most pleasant company. He’d known all of it about himself and hadn’t cared until he’d met her. Perhaps the one time family fortune and fame might have been its own aphrodisiac, but what use did he have for a woman like that? She would have been too much like his mother - cool, distant, parading her own children in front of his grandmother like good little soldiers. Audrie was different, and she was anything but cold. Many things, but not frigid in any sense of the word. 

Her clothes were all loose enough to be taken off, and he stood up again, keeping her hands in his to draw her back to her feet. He didn’t, however, just pull her robes down, and started at the furred shoulders, inching them off and kissing her, tasting her skin as he used his lips and teeth to nip, suck, and explore in the wake of easing her clothes to her breasts. Stopping there long enough to remove her chest band, he let it fall and sucked one of her nipples between his lips, smiling to himself as she gasped and arched into him. Darkly pink and pert, he tasted a faint trace of salt as he tugged it carefully through his teeth, sucking and flicking his tongue back and forth across before letting her go and continuing down, using mouth, tongue, and teeth along her belly, and inner thighs as he pulled her robes to her ankles. She stepped out of them, fully naked and thoroughly beautiful. 

Even in keeping her privacy from her past, she’d done nothing but encourage the best in all of them. It wasn’t just to inspire. They all followed her not because she was the Commander of the Grey, but because each one of them actually cared about her in one way or another. They were honored to be part of her group from loyalty and mutual goals against the darkspawn, but also out of friendship. Varel had taken an arrow gladly for her, and Nathaniel would have not hesitated to do the same. He was sure all of them would have done anything they could have to protect her, and she needed no help from any of them. After what she’d done to obliterate her would be assassins and how he’s seen her cut through darkspawn like wheat before a thresher, he had no doubts of her abilities. It was often messy, they were scrubbing darkspawn guts off themselves or she was tearing into enemies as an enormous brown bear, but she was a devastating force to be reckoned with. So warm of character and yet so strong, even dangerous, without a shred of conceit. She also hadn’t looked twice at any of them until now. Now she was his.

He also now understood why, but she parted her legs, shifting her stance in another kiss, opening up to him as his fingers stroked her clit. Finding her very, very aroused, they were only left with his heavy leather leggings and boots. The latter he tore himself away from pleasuring her long enough to kick them off his feet, and she helped him with his protective pants, dressing him down to small clothes. They did not stay on more than a few seconds longer than the rest. His hair was black and fine from crown all the way to groin just as she was dark gold. Wrapping her fingers around him and stroking him, her free fingers of the opposite hand teased the thick soul patch directly beneath his bottom lip. “Well, well, well. The Maker granted you your fair share and then some, didn’t he?” she playfully demanded in a heady whisper which pulsed in his ear before she began to nibble on the edge of it. 

That actually made him laugh a little with pure pleasure, and that was something in his grim life that he seldom ever did. The humor was whisked right out of his skull as she slid down the full length of his body, enjoying the feeling of his skin and hair brushing against her belly and breasts until she was kneeling in front of him. Putting her hands on his hips, she took him without hesitation into her mouth, sucking and licking as she worked down his length. She immediately slid back up, her tongue slipping beneath the ridge of his head and she cupped him in one of her hands. By that time, he had left rational thought behind somewhere with the rest of his armor and she caressed his heavy balls with the heel of her hand and adroit fingers as she slid up and down his length, sucking until he normally wouldn’t have been able to stand it any longer. There was only so much he normally could have held back when he was on the verge of coming hard, but something was different. It was strange, he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he’d changed somehow. Although there were other far more obvious alterations after the Joining, including more frequent nightmares of muttering darkspawn and a rabid appetite increase for disturbingly under cooked meat, he hadn’t been expecting it to affect his performance with a woman. Not that he assumed he’d have the opportunity as soon as he had.

Twirling her tongue around the tip of his head a few more times to titillate him, her eyes roved the full length of his body to meet his, and she seemed to know what he was thinking. Slipping over his length again, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked, he gasped audibly for breath before she finally let him go. Sitting, she took his hands that time and drew him down with her. “It’s because you’re a Grey Warden,” she told him, openly admiring every distinct line of his body, and tracing circles around his nipples with her fingertips. “Not all the changes are annoying. There’s… this… too.”

“What does it do?” She lay on her back, erotically unashamed of letting him see his fill and doing the same as her eyes roved over his body. Spreading her legs, he parted her and pressed her clit beneath his thumb, massaging her in a leisurely up and down rhythm, watching her arch her spine up and open her legs wider in invitation.

“Mmm…” She didn’t answer right away, having been thoroughly distracted, but managed to find her way back after a few seconds. “The Joining does something …” She groaned softly in the throat as her eyes slid closed, barely getting the rest of her thought out. “It changes something. Gives you more control… better endurance? I don’t know… not exactly.”

“Interesting.” He meant it, but if she didn’t know, he wasn’t currently in a position to care. It would be more pleasurable to find out for himself, and he propped himself low on one elbow, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh and began to ruthlessly use his tongue on her clit, tasting her and letting her fill all of his senses in one glorious second. Although she was trying to keep her voice low, there were a few times his name slipped out that someone else might have heard. If they did, he didn’t care, and actually felt a little smug about it. Anders tried his luck with anyone, but Audrie hadn’t chosen the fellow mage that night, she’s chosen him. Still between her legs, he slid his tongue down between her lips, and inside of her, reaching as far as he could and tasting just how much her body was screaming for his. 

Rolling her own nipples between her fingers to heighten her pleasure, Audrie felt herself skim over the peak of her first climax, pressing involuntarily up against him as it whetted her appetite for more. For the first time in nearly a year, all thoughts of the first man to share her body and soul were left in the past, where they belonged - remembered in love, but not dominating her present. “Nathaniel,” she croaked in a husky whisper, pleading, “join with me.”

It had been a long time, if ever, that he’d been with a woman who was that lustily craving him. What would happen after that night, he didn’t know, but right then, it didn’t matter. There was a thirst in both of them which wasn’t going to be quenched until they it was shared in the inferno they’d been building up between them all night long. 

Half smiling, his usually harsh features were handsomely softened when his flint gray eyes met with hers and he positioned himself with his hips between her legs. She could imagine no one in her entire life she’d wanted more just then, and ached to feel him, taking both of them to the completion. Positioning her hips toward him and lifting her legs, he finally sank deep, thrusting into her where she was hot, wet and welcoming. She wasn’t just flattering him, and he was built larger than the last she’d been with. He also seemed to know exactly how and best to please, and even inside her, she could feel his self confidence. Every plummet of his hips was deeply penetrating and controlled. He shuddered with her tightening around him and she with the exquisite thrusts he delivered each time he moved his hips. Her fingers dug into the small of his back, encouraging him, but true to the fringe benefits of the Wardens, she bucked against him hard with a low, involuntary gasp, her breasts brushing his chest as she climaxed deeply the first time. Before he was through, she’d crashed back down and he’d brought her back around again. She came just as hard the second time before he was at his deepest inside of her, expelling his orgasm as his fingers dug out furrows in the grass. 

Once his elbows unlocked and he could move, he recovered his breath and sat beside her, leaning on one arm as he caressed her face, shoulders and breasts. “That’s … normal..?” he finally asked when he located his voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Turning her face into his hand, she surprised him as she opened herself to him fully with affection as well as sex. She kissed his palm, her tongue tip barely touching as she caught the smell of leather again, the fresh grass, and the underlying uniqueness which was Nathaniel. Such a small and simple intimacy, but it silently touched him. “I guess so. I don’t know any women Wardens except ours, and they seem to be rarer. My two companions at the Joining were both men, too, although neither survived. There’s tales about the men Wardens. Some are exaggerated, but I think it’s normal.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that information, if he was to be perfectly honest, but took it with an almost brutal practicality. Not one to look at the world through veils of sunshine or color, he liked the truth, be it ugly or attractive. “Do these changes effect you, too?” The only rumors he’d ever heard about Grey Wardens revolved around riding white griffons, not about women he set out to try and kill then ended up making love to. 

“I have no idea. Maybe it’s just me, but all I know for sure is it’s harder to have children. I’ve been told almost impossible for two Wardens, so there’s impact. Personally, I don’t know if it’s from being a Warden or if I just haven’t had … you know… a good man with me in a long time.” She might have been a mage, openly frank about absolutely everything in life, but she just couldn’t come right out and tell him bluntly it had been months since she had good sex. It had been good with Alistair. Loving him made it perfect, but at the same time it sure hadn’t been anything like Nathaniel, either.

“So you and Alistair were together.”

She sat up, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him, another pleasant token he hadn’t expected. “Do you really want to hear about that?” she asked leerily, running his fingers over the single braid which was about the span of two fingers and wrapped around his head in the fashion of Ferelden men. Drawing him to the ground with her, it seemed odd he was asking about her former lover. Once he was settled on his back, she curled up around him, draping one leg between his and an arm across his chest so she could rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Yes,” he insisted, brushing the hair from her cheek so he could look into her strange, slanted blue green eyes. “Tell me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” she sighed, but Nathaniel was nothing if not a little peculiar. It wasn’t a trait she was put off by, considering she never seemed to know anyone who would pass for completely normal in her life, including Alistair. Nathaniel asked, and she’d heard him stand steady against Oghren’s insinuations about his father having a bedroom next to the dungeon without flinching, so she took him for his word. Starting at the beginning when she was recruited by Duncan, she recounted the highlights of how she’d met Alistair, how bad it was at Ostagar, lighting the signal fire, and the way they’d fought their way across Ferelden, living like vagabonds and trying to survive long enough to get the old treaties honored. There were parts of the tale everyone had heard, although they’d been embellished, where she did not. Nathaniel appreciated that, because he’d known battle almost all his life. It was not the stuff of frolicsome bard tunes, and she didn’t coat it so. It was exactly as she described with scavenged armor, occasionally illness, long and dreary marches, worn out boots, and having two ways of winning toss stone. One was by chance, the other by skill, and she admitted that most of what she’d achieved was through luck. 

She told him of how time brought she and Alistair together, although his birthright drove a wedge between them which tore her apart inside. Her explanation of wanting to do the right thing to see Maric’s blood remain on the throne and faith in Alistair as a king gave Nathaniel insight, which was what he’d really wanted. Audrie possessed a rare gift, and she either had an instinct about people or saw things in them they might not immediately see in themselves. Not only that, but she drew it out, and he had the impression some of it was unconsciously learned from her mentor. She evidently knew Duncan for less than a month, but he’d passed something to her which had nothing to do with battle tactics or Grey Warden history. Either that or simply helped develop what was already there, and Nathaniel listened. Occasionally he’d interrupt with a question, but otherwise let her talk.

It was actually healing, in its way, to finally tell someone else who hadn’t been through it. Yet, his life allowed him to understand her viewpoint. She loved Alistair, and surely she would until the Darkspawn or some other incident ended her life. That did not mean the situation was idyllic, nor their romance less tragic. Likewise, it did not mean she hadn’t the right to love someone else, for she had mourned Alistair deeply for a long time. She didn’t omit the conversation with Morrigan when Nathaniel asked, and recounting it brought back a ragged kind of balm for her sundered soul. 

“He didn’t want to do it, just because he hated her?” Nathaniel demanded as he stroked her temple with his fingertips, turning his head a little so he could look her in the face.

“No,” she countered with a shake of her head, tracing her fingertip through the hair on his chest. “That wasn’t all of it. He would have done it, had I made him, but it produced some sort of demon child. Morrigan only wanted power, and it was a betrayal to me - to us all. I always knew she was up to something, but I never guessed it was that. Whatever that baby was going to be, it wouldn’t have been good, particularly not with Morrigan raising it.” 

“Then why not lay with her and perform the ritual, then deal with her afterward?” He asked in his harsh, brutally practical way. “Alistair loved you, so why risk losing you when he could do something about it? She could always be dealt with once the archdemon was dead. No one can hide forever, and I doubt she’d be able to become an animal when she began to get heavy.”

“That’s a little creepy,” she told him, tilting a reproachful eye in his direction, then her voice turned exceptionally wry after she paused to fervently kiss him. “Particularly since I agree with you, although it’s taken me nearly this long to admit to that.” She was angry with Alistair that he wouldn’t save his own life, although she’d also admired it. Deep down, she would never be sure if his death wasn’t more of a suicide, a cowards way of finally dodging the birthright he hated so much. He’d almost said as much in that last argument before he kissed her goodbye the one last time on the roof. Why hadn’t he just saved his own life, no matter how disgusting and despicable it would have been to him to bed Morrigan? She’d have done it for him had the tables been turned and the Apostate was a man, needing her to bed him for whatever reason. She wouldn’t have enjoyed it, and it would have been selling herself like a prostitute, but she’d have endured to keep Alistair safe. It took nine months for a child to be born, and a lot could happen in that time. It was enough to take a gamble. The feelings were jumbled up in her gut, and it wasn’t until Nathaniel started digging that she was finally coming to terms with them. 

Alistair had been both brave and craven as they stood in the pooling blood of the expiring dragon. Heart wrenchingly noble and brave, he’d lain down his life to save the country and her people, but in the same death, he’d taken the easy way out, dodging all the hard responsibilities of living, being king, and … truly dealing with their relationship. It made her furious as well as filled her with love, and the two didn’t particularly share space well together. Had he been stronger, Nathaniel was right, they might have found another way, and even made some path that she could stay with him while he ruled. It wasn’t as if she actually wanted to be queen, and telling the Landsmeet she’d rule next to him was an act of pure desperation. Being a mage made it ridiculous, but only two things had mattered to her, then: Stop the Blight and loving Alistair. In that order. 

“I suppose he was just not as strong or ruthless as you in some ways.” She didn’t spare him her honesty either, although there was a certain amount of admiration in her voice when using the word. It took any cutting edge off of it, and actually pleased him to hear it. “In the end, what happened … happened, and he took the archdemon’s soul with him to their death.”

“Does it bother you that I’m ruthless?” he didn’t throw her own phrase back into her face, merely asked, the same way he did about everything else, right down to asking Justice moving into a living mortal body when the current one wasn’t fit for habitation any longer. The whole of all of his conversations tended along the matter-of-fact track.

“No,” she told him, sitting up and leaning over him, straddling his shoulders with her arms to meet his eyes. “Not at all. You’re unique, Nathaniel, and … I like that. You’re like the arrows you fire, straight, on target and seldom miss. I don’t know how Varel manages to deal with all the nobles all the time and the way they lie to your face so convincingly then stab you in the back when its turned. Give me a pack of Antivian Crows trying to cut off my head any day of the week. At least they’re honest about it. I always know where I stand with you. It’s refreshing, and you’re a true Grey Warden. Duncan would have liked you, I think.” That was high praise coming from her lips, because she considered her mentor one of the best Grey Wardens she’d ever known, however briefly, and a shrewd judge of character. “Anyway, do you really think I’d be here if it bothered me?”

Shaking his head, he knew she wouldn’t be. It was well beyond his power to seduce a woman like her into doing anything she was set against. “I asked Oghren about when my father died, but he wouldn’t answer. Will you?”

“You certainly have a very bizarre idea of pillow talk, Nathaniel,” she told him dryly, and slipped her hand sideways between his legs, getting him to shift position as he flicked his gaze down questioningly. “No, I’m not going to.”

Something in her tone was unusual. It was lighter, almost teasing, and he arched one thin brow. “No?”

“You want more out of me,” she informed him, leaning down to nibble on his stomach and tease a circle around his rapidly stiffening erection with her tongue, “then you’re earning it.”

“You’re … playful.” That statement might have been obvious, but it was something he’d never seen and hadn’t previously imagined from her. She was actually teasing him, and a smile crept up through his lips, warming his eyes. 

“Sometimes,” she shrugged then found herself smiling back as she straddled his thighs. “You’re very handsome when you do that, you know. You should try it more often.”

That was something else he wouldn’t have ever expected her to say, although he wasn’t sure what she was talking about, either. “What?”

“Smiling,” she answered simply, running her hands over his torso, luxuriously enjoying the feel of his lean muscles, the hair on his chest, and finally the much denser and courser soul patch beneath his lip.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’ll try,” he decided, feeling the pull of another smile curl over his lips as he brushed his hand through her hair. He should have been tired after a full day walking then sex, but he was finding himself as responsive to as she was hungry. She didn’t leave him time to think about it as she lowered herself down onto him, taking him inside of her, and thrusting her hips over his. By the feel, he knew she was just as ready for him, and arched her back toward him in ecstasy as he fondled her breasts, losing himself again to the rhythm she set. They were wrapped up in each other for awhile before he felt and saw her come. It was a flood of hot wetness, clamping down around him as she collapsed forward on the heels of her hands, locking her arms as her entire body bucked with a spasm then relaxed. Once he saw it had passed through her, he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back to sit on her knees. If she wanted him to earn it, then he would gratefully oblige, and smiling wasn’t such an effort as he thought it might be when he was with her. Pulling out of her, his whole body protested against it, and like him, it wasn’t done with her, yet. “Stand up,” he told her, taking one hand as he climbed to his feet. She didn’t resist, and obviously sometime wanted someone to tell her what to do, at least like this. 

He didn’t mind compensating her, and was happy to take the lead as he stood behind her, kissing her neck with a tender voraciousness, kneading her breasts and nibbling at her back and shoulders until he’d heated her up almost to the point of begging for him again. “Lean forward,” he whispered in her ear, his voice as smooth as it was dominate.

“Oh Maker,” she uttered huskily, and her stomach knotted up with an unexpected thrill. Her heart beat harder, and a fresh desire dampened her inner thighs.

Nathaniel’s brows lifted fractionally with surprise at her reaction, and he slid his hand between her legs from the back. With his thumb inside of her, he caressed her clit between his index and second finger, and after a half second hesitation, experimentally murmured, “I’m going to make you mine.” 

“Oh!” Anything else she would have said was momentarily cut off, but she tightened around his thumb, pressing closer to him so that he was as deep as possible. “Please.” She wasn’t sure what it was she was asking for, but letting him have control made the butterflies in her stomach go mad. She knew she could trust him, but his assertion was filling some desperately erotic need which was finally fully awakened. “Oh, yes,” the last syllable lengthened to a hiss.

Her submission was something new which completely set him off center, but Nathaniel recognized the gift she was offering him. The trust wasn’t trivial, and he would never betray it. As she rested her hands on her knees, she moaned softly through her labored breath while he teased her clit more thoroughly and pressed his erection against her hip. By that time she was begging for him, somewhat incoherently, he tangled his hand into her hair and pulled her up against his chest. She didn’t resist him, melting into his dominance, and he drew a line with the tip of his tongue from her shoulder up to her earlobe. “Does being mine please you?” He demanded with hot breath in her ear, and was rewarded to hear her gentle whimper of erotic acquiescence as she nodded. “Good,” he smirked slightly as he kneaded her breasts, then turned her around to face him. Experimentally holding her wrists, she gave him a small nod of consent as she stared into his eyes. Pushing her down to the ground, he pinned her hands, holding them down palm to palm. “Open your legs for me,” he whispered, holding her eyes with his. She was already about to do so, but the demand heightened both their pleasure as she bent her knees up and lifted toward him. “You’re going to come for me,” he told her with all the arrogance being a Howe had once bestowed on him, “like you have no one else ever before.” They were both testing new territory, but she bit her bottom lip through a grin, never breaking eye contact. 

When he entered her with a throaty, animal sound of his own, his motions were deep and precise. Not merely making love, he claimed her with each stroke, demanding her pleasure and climax. She came in a flash as he thrust into her. Writhing, she bucked her hips up against his, and he saw it flood her eyes with an intense intimacy. He was a few seconds after her, and didn’t loosen his grip on her wrists until he was completely spent inside of her. 

Sweetly drained, she relaxed and threaded her arms around his neck when he took a final, long kiss. Collapsing full length onto his back again, he opened his arm to give her a convenient place to lay with him. “You are an amazing woman, Commander,” he muttered, putting his other arm behind his head.

“Oh Maker,” she snorted, sounding a bit exasperated by the title, “call me Audrie after that.” 

She actually giggled. He had no idea she did that, either, but the mask was completely caste off, and he knew he was seeing all of who she really was. The parts of her which had to be necessarily hidden and held back were opened up for him to see, and she was … beautiful. He could think of no other word, although it seemed sadly inadequate. There was warmth, and a playful, seductive nature kept locked away behind her veneer. He had discovered why the walls she kept so well tended had been built. It was his hope he’d see a lot more of what was behind them in the future, but the murky possibility of her being anything but his leader were something she’d have to decide. 

As she curled up beside him, she listened to his heart for a few minutes. “That was ... incredible,” she mumbled into his chest. Her thighs ached pleasantly from the multiple times they’d coupled, but it only served to remind her of him. It was going to be difficult not to get distracted for a few days, wanting to return to that odd feeling of ecstacy when he took control of things. It felt oddly right, and like a puzzle piece had fallen into place which was lacking in Alistair’s sweet gentleness. It felt good to let someone else be in charge for a little while, and added excitement for her to let go. 

She knew how to feed a man’s ego, he thought wryly, but didn’t argue with her. “Audrie,” he used her first name, instead, at least in private. When they were in public, she would always be his commander.

Her mind was buzzing, wanting to try more, but her body was too exhausted. Even Grey Wardens had limitations, and she needed rest before or if they were together again. Not forgetting her promise, she distracted herself with the question he’d asked before they were distracted. “Do you really want to know about your father?” she asked in the softest brush of a whisper, looking up at him. The last thing she wanted was to cause him pain.

He hesitated a half second from the change in topic but nodded, compressing his lips into a line. “I want to know the truth, all of it, and if he suffered.”

“All right,” she yielded and kissed his shoulder, gently caressing his cheek with the outside of her fingers. Perhaps it was something he needed to know, or to talk about, in order to let it go. His feelings and situation were too far out of her life experience to guess, but Nathaniel didn’t ask for anything he didn’t want. That seemed to include her, but she was flattered by that notion. He was certainly good ... and not all of that came from being a Warden. Putting her mind elsewhere over the trembling, pleasant throb in her lower regions, she went back in her mind to the day they’d gone to free Anora. “I really don’t like Queen Anora, and I don’t trust her. Alistair may not have made a very good king, I don’t know. He’d be better than her, though, and Eamon would have helped him.” Or manipulated him, but there were others with his best interest in mind if Eamon turned out unscrupulous. “So would I, and probably even Wynne and Leliana. Zevran would have at least have given him a discount on assassinations. At the time, the queen was being held the Howe estate, prisoner, we were told, on Teryn Loghain’s orders. I still don’t know how much of that was her playing your father against hers and how much of it is true. She’s slippery as a mud eel, and trustworthy as a leech. The problem was, we were calling Loghain out at the Landsmeet, challenging Anora’s right to rule because of Alistair’s birthright. Eamon advised we go get Anora out, and if we didn’t, Loghain might actually kill her then try and blame the murder on Eamon himself - or on the Wardens. We weren’t exactly popular right then. He had most of Ferelden hunting us down one way or another, although there were a lot of people in the lower ranks still on our side. 

“In Oghren’s defense, he couldn’t answer you, because he wasn’t actually there. We went in a small group, the same as we do now, with no more than four and sometime my mabari. Anora’s maidservant brought us disguises and helped sneak us into the Howe estate. It worked, at first, but when we got to Anora’s room, there was a magical ward on the door. Enchantment like that is very specific, and the only one who could break it was the mage who had caste it either by counter action or death. We stayed disguised as long as possible, but they finally failed. It was all blood, fighting, and killing for I don’t know how long after that. 

“I’d taken Alistair, Vanguard and Leliana with us, as a team put together for stealth as well as strength. Zevran was too likely to draw attention to himself because he was an elf and facial tattoos. Oghren is no good for sneaking around. You point him in the right direction and he charges like pain crazed Bronto, cutting everything down in his way, but he’s not exactly subtle.”

“I’ve noticed,” Nathaniel offered dryly and didn’t protest as she paused in her story to kiss him. The fact she was genuinely affectionate was pleasing.

“Leliana had skills like you,” she continued, settling back on his chest. “Alistair worked best with a sword and shield, Mabari are everywhere with Ferelden nobility, and I provided spells and healing. We ended up killing a lot of people who probably didn’t deserve it. They were just doing their job, and I wish it hadn’t come down to that.” Although Fergus Cousland would have argued since the men in that castle had the innocent blood of his family on their hands, true regret weighted her sigh. Nathaniel put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to kiss the top of her head. “Naturally, the mage we needed was down in the pits of a dungeon. There were people in there… an elf who’d been stuck since before your father took over, Riordan who had been drugged just to capture him, a … young nobleman’s son who was being tortured, an Ostagar veteran who was not of his right mind, and even a templar. Loghain had interfered with his duties to hunt down….” Alistair wasn’t the only one in her life which held deep affection, although it was much different in the case of, “Jowan. He was a malificar the Chantry was tracking and Loghain convinced him to poison Arl Eamon.” She smiled mirthlessly, “he was also my best friend growing up.” Before he could ask, she shook her head, “some other time. I’ll tell you later if you want to know. We let them all out one way or another, or got word to their families in the case of the templar. It took us forever to find the mage, and we heard a lot of horror stories about Loghain and your father along the way. Honestly, Nathaniel, I am sorry. He was determined to stop us, but we did go breaking into the man’s castle, even if it seemed like a good idea at the time. The mage with Anora’s magical lock was with him. He didn’t suffer, and his death was quick. I’m not even sure which one of us delivered the final blow, to be honest, but no one wanted to prolong something like that. Even Loghain’s was quick when it happened.” Alistair had to do it because she lacked the physical strength to severe bone, spine and cleanly remove any man’s head with a sword, but he’d gone better than a traitor deserved. 

“The real interesting part was when we got Anora out, finally, she betrayed us to Loghain’s people, and we were overwhelmed. I woke up with a bad headache and Alistair in Ft. Drakon. Once we got ourselves out, she told us she’d help us, only to turn around and betray us again at the Landsmeet. The bitch.” Sighing, she amended, “excuse me, Queen Bitch now. May her reign be a short one, and I couldn’t be happier to be out here and not in Denerim any more.”

“You were in prison?” That wasn’t something he’d heard before, and it actually surprised him. 

“Briefly. Mages don’t need clothes or weapons to protect themselves, and I don’t do enclosed spaces like that very well. I have too much elemental access and change shapes too readily. They couldn’t keep me for more than a few minutes after I woke up.” She didn’t tell the rest because that one was something she didn’t want to relive.

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” He took in her story, running his fingertips lightly down her ribs as he wandered in his own thoughts. “Don’t blame yourself for what you did.” Now that he truly understood what kind of a man his father was and had been, he could sense she was trying to spare him a few of the worst details. Although he wouldn’t have asked her to be easy with him, he recognized the kindness for what it was. “You did what you had to.”

“I wish I could be sorrier,”she told him quietly, nestling closer to him in a one armed hug, “but it brought you and I together. No matter how dark the original reasons, I can’t regret that.”

Her sincerity was almost as potent as a punch, and he stared at her with open wonderment, tilting her chin up to look into her face. “Will tonight happen again?”

“You certainly ask a lot of questions,” she informed him with a mock scowl and poked him playfully in the ribs. She was sure he had a sense of humor buried somewhere, but she’d yet to find it. He did grin at her, changing his entire appearance, so she indulged him. It needed to be said, anyway. “Only if you’re willing to stay with me, or at least see if we can. You’re … ah… hem….” she actually blushed, amusing him, “an amazing lover. Really. Really… amazing. I still can’t be with someone all the time and it mean nothing, no matter how good it is. Unless you care about me to stick around, I just… can’t. I want to be yours,” she hesitated for several heartbeats, “did you mean that?”

“Yes,” he answered succinctly. “I meant it.” He was still enchanted by the fact she’d colored up when talking about them having sex, but she shrugged in a noncommital gesture. “Audrie,” he told her softly, kissing her on top of the head through her hair. “I’d have done Morrigan’s ritual to protect us, then done whatever needed to be for you.”

She found it strange to be warmed by that kind of term of endearment, particularly in the context from another time and lover. Yet, it touched her in a place she didn’t think would ever rise out of the ashes again. “Thanks, Nathaniel. I care for you, too.”

And that had the power to make him smile again.


End file.
